


Darcy After Dentist

by gollumgollum



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gollumgollum/pseuds/gollumgollum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guess who's got two thumbs and had to have emergency wisdom tooth surgery today?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darcy After Dentist

**Author's Note:**

> Born entirely out of a trip to the dentist and procrastination. Spoiler alert: Darcy does not ask "Is this real life," but it was a very near thing.

"Hawwo," Darcy calls from Clint's couch, the arm waving at him clumsily the only part of her visible from the doorway. 

He pauses; Darcy's not one for babytalk, usually (which, having been the youngest kid at the circus, he _totally gets_ ). "Um. Hi?" Clint's an observant motherfucker, if he does say so himself, and within seconds he's put together that Darcy is watching _The Princess Bride,_ sprawled out bonelessly on his couch, and--drooling. _What happened to your face_ is probably not the best thing to say right now, and so Clint goes for his second impulse. "Long day?"

"Dentist," Darcy replies, not lifting her head. "Guess who's got two thumbs and had to have emergency wisdom tooth surgery today?"

"That guy?" Clint guesses.

"This guy," she confirms, letting the arm she'd been waving finally drop down. She may or may not point a thumb at herself on the way; Clint decides not to point it out. 

"Ouch." She's drooling on one of his throw pillows, which is disgusting and yet weirdly endearing all at the same time. Clint ducks into the kitchen to grab a towel. "Did they at least give you the good drugs?" 

Darcy laughs. "Hoooooooooo yeah. All the drugs. Oxywhatsit. And antibiotics, because apparently my mouth is gross." He can hear her forehead wrinkle in the change of her tone of voice. "You don't think my mouth is gross, do you?"

Clint comes back with the towel and, on a hunch, a cup of pudding. "Right now? To be honest? Yeah, I kind of do." He keeps talking, bulldozing right through her gathering pout. "When you're not drooling blood, though, it's a pretty awesome mouth."

She stops and considers that for a second. "Was there innuendo there?"

He shakes his head, laughing, and sits her up long enough to slide the throw pillow out and replace it with his thigh and the towel. "Only if you want there to be, babe." 

"You're squishy," she says, poking at his leg. "Thigh. Thiiighs. You have good thighs. I approve." 

"You have good drugs," he replies. "I think I approve."

"Vicodin makes me puke," Darcy tells him, oddly earnest. "Or at least it did when I broke my ankle junior year of high school. So I told Mr. Emergency Dentist Surgeon that, because I didn't want to be any more gross than I already was." 

"Smart of you," he tells her. 

She nods. "I thought so." 

"I brought you pudding."

"Ooh, pudding." Darcy makes a clumsy reach, misses the pudding entirely, then thinks better of it. "Maybe I'll wait."

"Probably a good idea." Clint winds his fingers of one hand through one of hers, gently stroking her hair with the other. "Princess Bride, huh?"

"Don't you mock me," she warns him. "One, I'm on a lot of drugs, and two, it is the best movie _of all time._ I'm willing to break up with you over this."

"As you wish," he murmurs, and he's rewarded by Darcy twisting her head up to give him a goofy, lopsided, drooling grin. He returns it--well, with less facial droop and drool--and Darcy snuggles into his thigh with a contented sigh.

"Think I might just have to keep you," she mumbles into the towel, her fingers tightening in his. 

"No complaints here," Clint says softly. It's occurred to him that he should probably be more freaked out by the fact that he isn't freaked out by whatever it is that he and Darcy are doing; the age difference and her markedly civilian life alone are probably enough to sink their ship, and that's before you trot out their respective abandonment issues and what have you. But Clint's always been the shoot first and ask questions later type, and from what he's heard about her first encounter with Thor, so's Darcy. 

"Good," she says, and that's the end of that. 

"Hey," Clint nudges her a while later, when Peter Cook says _Mawwage is wot bwings us togevvah today._ "He sounds like you."

Darcy just snores against his leg.


End file.
